


My Heart Beats So Unruly

by emperors_girl



Series: The Choices That You Make [3]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Families of Choice, Foster Care, M/M, Mpreg, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-15
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-01-17 13:48:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12367065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emperors_girl/pseuds/emperors_girl
Summary: Hank isn’t unintelligent. He knows he could be accused of having a particular preference in the type of person he finds attractive. He likes blondes with pretty eyes. Unfortunately, blondes with pretty eyes rarely like Hank back.Or: Hank is enamored and a bit confused, and Alex is a lying liar who lies.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not finished writing this yet, but I have a couple of chapters and figured I'd post one. No set timeline for updates.
> 
> I've decided this takes place before But Be Prepared to Bleed. POV will be back and forth between Hank and Alex.
> 
> Well. Here goes nothing.

Hank doesn’t notice at first that anyone’s talking to him. Likely that’s because he’s deeply absorbed in his graduate thesis, but it probably also has roots in the simple fact that not that many people talk to Hank on a daily basis. Unless he’s in class, he mostly keeps his own company. It’s not ideal, but he’s used to it by now.

Regardless, he doesn’t notice anyone has said anything to him until they say in an exasperated voice, “Hank!”

Hank looks up to find Dr. Xavier looking at him, obviously waiting for an answer.

“Daydreaming, Hank?” Dr. Xavier asks, grinning.

Hank says, “I apologize. I was very absorbed in my work.”

Dr. Xavier keeps smiling that lovely smile and says, “Well, no harm done. I was simply asking if you had plans tonight.”

Hank very determinedly does not get his hopes up. He knows Dr. Xavier is married and the idea that he might be proposing a date is extremely farfetched. Besides, no one’s ever asked Hank on a date. He wouldn’t know how to react if anyone ever did.

Hank mentally reviews his schedule and says, “No, I don’t have plans. Do you need some grading done?”

Dr. Xavier laughs, and Hank’s heart stutters a little. 

Dr. Xavier says, “Nothing like that. I was wondering if you wanted to come have dinner with my family.”

“Dinner?” Hank repeats stupidly.

“Yes,” Dr. Xavier says. “You know, that meal in the evening where everyone sits down together to eat?”

“Actually,” Hank says before he can stop himself, “depending on the cultural context, dinner can mean either an evening or an afternoon meal, though it’s usually the largest meal of the day, either way.”

“Hank,” Dr. Xavier says, and he’s got that exasperated tone of voice Hank knows so well, “it’s a colloquialism.”

“Right,” Hank says quickly, looking down at his hands. “Sorry.”

“No need for that,” Dr. Xavier says easily. “Just say you’ll come to dinner.”

Hank says, “Sure. Why not?”

XXXXX

Why not, indeed. Hank agrees to dinner because he’s put on the spot (historically, Hank has never done will in surprise social situations), but also because he doesn’t want to disappoint Dr. Xavier. Hank has done TA work for several professors since starting his graduate education, but Dr. Xavier is his favorite of all of them. Dr. Xavier is… well, beautiful would be the word. He’s beautiful and funny, and his eyes are breathtaking in the literal sense – Hank will admit to sometimes losing his breath when Dr. Xavier looks at him. But it’s not just that. Dr. Xavier is also extremely intelligent and the kindest man Hank has ever met.

Hank is a little bit in love with Dr. Xavier, and while that contributes to him agreeing to dinner with his family, it’s also the exact reason why Hank should refuse. He doesn’t know if he can get through dinner without making a fool of himself or inadvertently offending Dr. Xavier’s husband. Hank has only met Professor Lehnsherr a few times, and the impression Hank formed was that the man was extremely observant and not very friendly. Hank had tried to present himself during those meetings as a wholly non-threatening presence in Dr. Xavier’s life, but he’s not sure he succeeded. Not that he thinks Dr. Xavier would ever actually agree to an affair (not that Hank would even want that), but Hank doesn’t hide his emotions well, and the chances are very great that Professor Lehnsherr knows what Hank’s about.

All that said, the intelligent thing would be for Hank to refuse. But Hank is not nearly as intelligent as he likes to pretend, apparently, because he finds himself putting on his best tie and catching a bus to Woodlawn. He brings with him a bottle of sparkling grape juice. Wine would obviously be more appropriate, but Hank won’t be old enough to legally purchase that for another year.

Dr. Xavier’s house is very well-kept, which isn’t a surprise; his office may be slightly cluttered but nearly everything he owns is in pristine condition. Hank is no starving student – his grants allow him to live independently while pursuing his academic career – but his educated guess is that Dr. Xavier is actually much wealthier than the upper-middle class professor he presents himself as.

All that really means nothing to Hank. He’s not interested in Dr. Xavier for his money.

When Hank knocks on the door (it takes him three tries to get the nerve up), Dr. Xavier himself answers. It’s a kindness, especially since Dr. Xavier knows Hank is shy. This is exactly the type of thoughtful gesture Hank has gotten used to since he started working with Dr. Xavier.

Dr. Xavier says, “Oh, Hank! I’m so pleased you could make it! Come in.”

He has a girl infant on his hip, Hank notes, and a boy toddler clinging to his pantleg. Hank observes them carefully as he steps through the door. He’s never seen an infant with hair that particular shade of green before, and he’s not sure if it’s some type of hair dye. He doesn’t quite know why anyone would dye their baby’s hair, but the alternative is a genetic mutation. Hank knows from experience how personal that sort of thing can be, so he decides he’s going to observe without asking any questions. If Dr. Xavier wants him to know about his daughter’s hair, he’ll have to start the conversation.

Apart from that oddity, the children are very attractive. It could just be a genetic imperative to preserve the future of the species, but Hank finds his eyes catching on their soft skin and little fingers and toes. Both have blue eyes like Dr. Xavier, and the boy toddler has wavy hair that might be red or might be brown. The overall effect is very fetching. 

Dr. Xavier says, “This is Lorna and David. David, can you say hello to Hank?”

The boy toddler – David – looks at Hank, considers, then says, “Hi.” Then he promptly goes back to clinging to Dr. Xavier’s leg.

Dr. Xavier reaches down to pet the boy’s hair. 

“Thank you, love,” he says. “That was very well-done.”

To Hank, he adds, “Everyone else is in the kitchen. Let’s go through and I’ll introduce you.”

The kitchen is large and noisy, likely because it’s filled with people. Hank hadn’t known Dr. Xavier had such a large family, but in addition to the two Hank has just met, there are four other children. Most of them look nothing alike, Hank notices, but they’re all also very attractive. Hank feels himself becoming self-conscious, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that he’s mousy and awkward.

Fortunately, everyone in the kitchen is busy getting ready for the meal, which means their attention isn’t solely on Hank. They acknowledge him when Dr. Xavier introduces them, but then they all immediately return to what they were doing. This gives Hank time to observe them without having to be embarrassed about it.

There are three older children and an additional infant. Dr. Xavier introduces them as Sean, Ororo, Alex, and Scott. Sean and Ororo are setting the table, while Alex is wrestling Scott into a highchair. Neither Alex nor Scott looks very happy about this situation. Ororo’s hair is shockingly white, but after the green-haired infant, Hank isn’t surprised. 

Dr. Xavier says, “And of course you’ve met Erik already.”

Professor Lehnsherr gives Hank a tiny, strained smile and says, “Nice of you to join us.”

His tone and word choice aren’t exactly welcoming, but Hank has experienced Professor Lehnsherr’s way of speaking before, and he’s got a working theory about paralinguistics across cultures that might explain it. Either that, or Professor Lehnsherr just enjoys seeing people squirm.

Hank says, “Thank you for inviting me.”

Dr. Xavier says, “It’s no trouble at all, Hank. Have a seat, won’t you? We’ll be ready in just a moment.”

Hank chooses a seat not directly beside any of the highchairs, because he’s fairly certain feeding infants takes a certain amount of training, and Hank isn’t informed on that process. He watches as Dr. Xavier puts Lorna into the vacant highchair, which is almost directly across from where Hank is sitting. The girl blinks at Hank, and Hank wonders if she might be distracted by his glasses. He has some notion that babies enjoy glasses.

Gradually, the seats around Hank fill in. He finds himself next to Sean on one side and Alex on the other. Alex is sitting directly between Hank and Scott, and he seems to take charge of making sure the latter gets fed. Hank finds he isn’t displeased with the seating arrangement. 

Dinner itself is quite pleasant. Hank doesn’t often get the chance to eat with other people. He spends a majority of his meals working or reading for pleasure, and that’s mostly done in silence. This is a nice change of pace. Dr. Xavier, of course, is the instigator of most of the conversation, but Hank would expect nothing less from him. The man loves to talk, Hank already knows that from working with him.

Dr. Xavier says, “Ororo, darling, how did your presentation turn out?”

Ororo says, “Good. Everyone liked the diorama.”

“As well they should,” Dr. Xavier says emphatically. “It was brilliant!”

“I did notice,” Professor Lehnsherr adds drily, “that you put an excessive amount of glitter on it.”

Ororo pouts and says, “Glitter is pretty, Daddy. Don’t you want me to have pretty things?”

Dr. Xavier says, “Of course we do, my darling,” and gives Professor Lehnsherr a stern look.

Professor Lehnsherr says, “I think we have enough pretty things around here, don’t you?”

Hank certainly agrees with that.

“About that,” Sean cuts in, “I may or may not have broken that cat statue in the living room.”

Alex says, “Goddamn it, Sean! Now we’re all gonna be cursed! ”

Hank… has no frame of reference for this sort of interaction.

David suddenly says, “Dammit!”

Dr. Xavier and Professor Lehnsherr both send accusing glares at Alex.

Alex sighs, and says, “Crap.”

Hank can’t help but to smile.

Then Alex looks at him and says, “What are you laughing at, bozo?”

Hank stops smiling at once.

He says, “I- I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Dr. Xavier says, “Enough, Alex.”

Professor Lehnsherr says, “Don’t mind him. He’s not house-trained yet.”

Under his breath, Alex says, “Woof."

Hank doesn’t smile this time. 

Dr. Xavier says, “Hank, do you have any brothers or sisters?”

Hank blinks at him, startled by the change of subject.

“No,” he says. “I- I’m an only child.”

Dr. Xavier nods. “It takes a bit of getting used to,” he says casually, “being around others in that way. There’s a language that siblings speak together that may not make sense to those outside the group.”

“Cryptophasia,” Hank says at once. “I’ve read about that.”

Dr. Xavier bites his lip against a smile and says, “That’s not quite what I meant. Though of course twin-speak is a very fascinating phenomenon.”

Professor Lehnsherr points his fork at Dr. Xavier and says firmly, “No twins.”

Dr. Xavier keeps smiling. “Of course, dear.”

XXXXX

The rest of dinner continues in the same vein, and by the end of it Hank is thoroughly confused but also oddly charmed. He’s never had a meal quite like this one. Everyone is just so… familial. Hank can’t remember the last time he attended a family dinner, especially not one like this. No one has asked him a single thing about how his schoolwork is going, and it’s oddly freeing.

The dinner conversation allows Hank the chance the glean certain information about this family group. He learns, for instance, that while he’s very close in age with the older children, he doesn’t have much in common with them. Ororo is in eighth grade, Sean is a junior, and Alex is a senior in high school. Hank has been out of high school for several years now, and he’s repressed what memories he still has of the place. 

It also turns out that all of these children with the exception of David and Lorna are in foster care, which is something Hank has absolutely no experience with. He wants to be able to make conversation with them (he doesn’t get many opportunities to talk to people his own age, mostly spending his time with his peers who are all five to ten years older), but with all the differences (and Hank’s awkwardness), he doesn’t know where to start.

It doesn’t help that they’re all so beautiful. Well, truth be told, he doesn’t mind so much that the younger ones are beautiful. He certainly has no designs on Ororo or even Sean. Alex, however, is quite distracting. 

Hank isn’t unintelligent. He knows he could be accused of having a particular preference in the type of person he finds attractive. He likes blondes with pretty eyes (Dr. Xavier is obviously the exception there, as he’s determinedly brunette, but his eyes make up for that). Unfortunately, blondes with pretty eyes rarely like Hank back. 

That also is the case now with Alex. Pretty as he may be, Alex is not at all interested in Hank, and he proves it by barely looking in Hank’s direction after their altercation early in the meal. From that point forward, Alex’s focus is almost entirely on Scott, and Hank knows a pretense when he sees one. To be fair, Scott does a good deal of squirming and fussing while Alex is trying to feed him, but Alex is particularly focused on his work in a way that seems artificial to Hank’s admittedly untrained eye.

Hank obviously doesn’t enjoy being insulted (he doesn’t know anyone that does), but he thinks he would prefer that treatment over being ignored in this manner. He tries to think of something to say to Alex to get his attention (to get a look at his pretty eyes again, rather), but to no avail. These sorts of social interactions need careful planning; Hank can’t just pull one out of thin air.

He gives it some thought toward the end of the meal. If Scott is Alex’s primary focus, it follows that he would allow himself to be engaged in a conversation about the child. But  
Hank has no practical knowledge about infants. What could he possibly say that would catch Alex’s attention?

Eventually, Scott starts to squirm and whine with more intensity than before and holds his arms out to be picked up.

“Come on, kid,” Alex says, and he sounds tired. “Can’t you just let me eat for a while?”

Scott whines again and his eyes well up with tears.

“Fine,” Alex says, putting down his fork. He pushes himself to his feet and starts to unclasp the straps on the high chair. Scott fusses through the entire process and only quiets once Alex picks him up and cradles him close to his chest.

Hank manages to say, “I-I notice you’re very good with him.”

“Well, yeah,” Alex says, turning to look at Hank. “He’s my…”

He looks Hank up and down like he’s perhaps really just now noticing him for the first time.

“Your…?” Hank prompts.

Alex licks his lips, drawing Hank’s gaze to his red mouth.

“He’s my… my brother,” Alex says slowly.

There’s a clatter from the other side of the table, and someone starts to cough violently. Hank and Alex both turn to see Sean apparently choking on his water.

“Are you alright, darling?” Dr. Xavier asks.

Ororo pats Sean on the back. Hank wants to tell her that’s unnecessary and also could potentially make the situation worse, but he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.

Sean’s choking starts to taper off, and he manages to wheeze out, “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Professor Lehnsherr says, “I don’t, as a rule,” though Hank notices he’s watching Sean very closely, probably actually very concerned. 

Dr. Xavier makes a face like he, too, doesn’t quite believe that, but he lets it go. He turns instead back to look at Alex and Scott.

Alex says, “Yeah, fine, okay. I’m just gonna,” and he hooks his thumb over his shoulder toward the living room.

Dr. Xavier nods. “We’ll clean up here. Hank, if you’re finished, you can go through as well.”

Hank doesn’t want to leave his used dishes at the table, but when he tries to ask where to put them, Professor Lehnsherr raises an eyebrow at him and Hank decides it’s wise not to argue. 

He follows Alex into the living room and finds him sitting with the baby on the floor.

Alex looks up when Hank comes in, then immediately looks back down at the baby. 

Hank scrounges for baby-related conversational gambits to gain his attention back.

“How old is he?” he manages.

Alex says, “Six months.”

“Ah,” Hank says, and then trails off into awkward silence. 

“I don’t know much about children,” he admits after a moment.

Not that he couldn’t learn, and perhaps he should take some time to focus on that after this encounter.

“Me neither,” Alex says. “Not until I came here. Then there was David and then Scott came, and now sometimes it feels like I don’t know about anything _except_ babies.”

“It, uh, seems like a useful skill,” Hank tries.

Alex laughs and looks back at Hank at last. His laugh makes something flutter in Hank’s chest. He wonders idly how Alex feels about men who always keep their socks on in bed.

Alex says, “It’s a shitty job – literally – but it’s got its perks, I’ll admit. You wanna hold him?”

Hank starts, “Oh, I wouldn’t know how-” but suddenly Alex is standing in front of him, baby in his arms, and Hank loses his train of thought.

Alex says, “He can hold his head up, don’t worry about that. Just get one arm underneath his arms and one underneath his butt, and let him lean against your chest if he needs to.”

And then suddenly Hank has a real human infant in his arms. He all but stops breathing for a long moment, but then when nothing explodes and the baby doesn’t immediately start crying, he lets himself relax incrementally.

Up close, the baby is round-cheeked and blue-eyed. He has his brother’s nose, but his hair is darker – almost auburn.

Discrepancy in hair color is certainly no anomaly between siblings, but that combined with the significant age gap makes Hank wonder about biological parents and their genetic contributions.

He says, “Forgive me if this is forward but, do you have both the same parents as Scott?”

Alex’s eyes go wide and his eyes flick toward the kitchen.

“Uh,” he says. “No, we don’t. His dad was, um, kind of an asshole, you know?”

The baby in Hank’s arms chooses that moment to start babbling loudly, which is good, because it saves Hank from continuing what probably was going to be an intrusive line of questioning. He’ll save the interrogation for once he gets to know Alex better. And he _will_ get to know Alex better – of that, Hank is determined. 

He just has to figure out how.

He doesn’t have long to ponder it, because shortly after that the rest of the family comes into the room and Hank decides he can’t intrude on their quality time any longer than he already has. He hands Scott back to Alex and makes his excuses.

“Oh, are you sure you have to go so soon?” Dr. Xavier asks.

“I really should get back to my thesis,” Hank explains, and they let him get away with it.

It’s a long trip back to Hank’s building, however, and the apartment seems startling empty and silent, even though he knows it’s in the exact same condition he left it. He considers turning on the radio, but decides that would probably be a distraction to his work.

He sits down at his desk in the quiet corner of the room he’s converted into an office, but instead of reaching for his thesis, he grabs his laptop instead. He knows suddenly what he’s going to do to get Alex to like him. Well, step one of the process, anyway.

He pulls up a search engine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to have this up a few days ago but it's been kind of a busy week. So, sorry about that.

Okay so, objectively, Alex knows he screwed up. But it’s not like he’s ashamed of his kid or wants to give him up or anything. It’s more like, a cute guy was in Alex’s space and he just panicked. And maybe that cute guy is also a total bozo but it’s been at least a year since Alex has been laid and his hindbrain just wasn’t making that distinction.

Either way, Alex gets hell about it after Hank leaves for the night. As soon as he’s out the door, Sean turns to Alex with big eyes and says, “I can’t believe you did that!”

“It wasn’t anything!” Alex tells him, crossing his arms. “I just don’t want everyone and their fucking mom to know I’m a delinquent, alright?”

“Alex,” Charles snaps from the kitchen. “Language!”

Alex sighs and runs a hand over his face.

“Sorry, Prof!” he calls back.

It’s been a real problem, this swearing thing. It’s not Alex’s fault he has a potty mouth. He started young and it stuck around. But he doesn’t want to let his kid grow up like that (or, more importantly, to be blamed for Charles and Erik’s kids growing up like that), so he’s been working on it.

“Well what are you gonna do when he finds out the truth?” Sean asks.

Alex shrugs. “Who says he’s going to? It’s not like he’s going to be hanging around all the time, right?”

“Oh,” Ororo says. “Papa, aren’t you going to invite him over again next week?”

“That’s right darling,” Charles says, now standing in the doorway. “If that’s alright with you, Alex?”

And what’s Alex really going to say to that except, “Yeah, whatever. I’ll just… figure it out.”

“That’s a good lad,” Charles says. “Honesty’s always the best policy, I’ve been told.”

Alex takes that with a grain of salt, because Charles is perfect and never gets himself into scrapes like this. Alex, on the other hand, can’t seem to _stop_ getting into them.

XXXXX

Hank has a plan to get Alex to like him. Step one is increasing his knowledge on baby development. Scott is obviously very important to Alex. Hank doesn’t have any practical experience with siblings, but he can make a reasonably confident hypothesis that it’s a close bond. That seems to have been what Dr. Xavier was hinting at during dinner before Hank sidetracked them with conversation about twins.

To that end, Hank spends the weekend ignoring his thesis in favor of learning everything he can about the various stages of early childhood development. It seems that Scott (and Lorna, Hank supposes) are both at an age where they can push themselves into a sitting position, roll themselves over, and are on the cusp of both object permanence and crawling. They’re capable of babbling, but their communication skills are for the most part limited to crying when they have a need that has been unfulfilled. That’s all consistent with what Hank saw at dinner and after.

Hank also reads that the ideal arrangement is to have children breastfeed for at least six months. Of course, that wouldn’t be an option for either Scott or Lorna, as neither is living with their mothers. Hank can infer that Lorna was born via surrogate, but he does wonder what happened to Alex and Scott’s mother. He’d come to understand during dinner conversation that Alex had been with Dr. Xavier and Professor Lehnsherr for over a year, but Scott was only born six months ago. Could Alex’s mother have been impregnated during the time Alex was in foster care and then arranged for Scott to be fostered to the same family?

Certainly that seems to be the only option, but Hank has no way to verify that without asking Alex directly, and though Hank doesn’t always pick up on interpersonal cues right away, even he could tell that Alex was uncomfortable answering questions about his parents. Since Hank’s ultimate goal is to have Alex view him in a favorable light, he should probably avoid bringing up any subjects that make him uncomfortable. His curiosity, it seems, will simply have to go unfulfilled.

Step two of Hank’s plan involves hanging around Dr. Xavier’s office as often as possible and looking hungry. It’s not difficult; ever since he started TAing for Dr. Xavier, he’s been in and out of his office at least three times every week, anyway. All he really needs to do to further his plans is stop eating breakfast before their lectures together.

This method, though physically uncomfortable, pays off quickly. The week after Hank went to dinner, Dr. Xavier asks him to stop by office hours so they can talk. Hank brings his thesis just in case that’s what they’re going to discuss, but he doesn’t think he’ll end up needing it.

He’s not wrong. Dr. Xavier says, “Have a seat, Hank. No, no need to get anything out; this is a personal conversation.”

Two weeks ago, Hank would have been over the moon to have any kind of personal conversation with Dr. Xavier, but now that he’s set his sights on someone more suitable (and beautiful), he contents himself with only a slight blush.

He says, “What can I do for you, Dr. Xavier?”

“First of all, Hank, you can stop calling me Dr. Xavier. It’s Charles, really.”

Hank blushes even more and adjusts his glasses. That doesn’t seem wholly proper.

He says, “I’m not sure…”

“Well, think it over, anyway,” Dr. Xavier says. “Or if it really bothers you, some of my children just call me Professor.”

That, Hank thinks, would be much a much more comfortable compromise.

“I’ll consider it,” he says carefully.

Dr. Xavier smiles, and it’s still beautiful, even if Hank is no longer enamored.

“Thank you, Hank,” he says. “That wasn’t what I wanted to talk to you about, though. I was actually hoping you could do me a favor. Well, a paid favor, really. Nothing nefarious – get that look off your face! It’s just that one of my children is falling a bit behind in his maths class, and I was thinking you’d make a wonderful tutor.”

For a moment, Hank wonders whether he’s having an oddly lucid dream. Surely Dr. Xavier can’t be handing him the perfect opportunity to be in his house more often, and without any prompting at all from Hank! Surely this is some type of misunderstanding.

He says, “Which child, can I ask?”

Dr. Xavier says, “Alex, actually,” and Hank thinks he might swoon.

“Alex,” he repeats, letting the name linger on his lips.

Then it occurs to him that he had better not hesitate, lest the opportunity be snatched away.

He says, “Yes, of course I’ll help. When do you need me?”

Dr. Xavier smiles again.

“Brilliant!” he says. “That’s wonderful, Hank. I really appreciate this, and of course I wouldn’t ask you to do it for free. Why don’t you come over for dinner again tonight and you can negotiate an appropriate price with Erik?”

“I’ll be there,” Hank promises.

XXXXX

“What do you mean, math tutor?” Alex asks.

He’s got Scott on one shoulder, simultaneously yelling nonsense and drooling a freaking river down his shirt. Alex has gone slightly deaf – or he assumes he has, because he doesn’t think he could have heard that right.

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Charles says. He’s helping Lorna nurse with one hand and texting Erik with the other. He’s a goddamn wizard at multitasking. “Your grades are slipping, Alex. We both know you’re not unintelligent, which means it’s simply a case of being too busy and uninterested. Which is understandable, but that doesn’t mean we can’t do anything about it.”

Alex grits his teeth. “I’m not stupid,” he says. “I don’t need a fucking tutor.”

Charles looks up at him, narrow-eyed. “What you need is soap in your mouth. Have you ever had soap in your mouth, Alex? I can tell you firsthand, it’s not a pleasant experience.”

Alex knows a trap when he sees one, so he says nothing.

Charles sighs, and puts down his phone.

“Look, Alex, of course you’re not stupid. And it’s not that I even really think your maths grades are going to make or break your future. But why struggle through it if you don’t have to? Let us help you, Alex.”

Alex wants to say that he doesn’t need any help, that he’s been taking care of himself for years and can handle this on his own. But… that’s not really true, is it? Alex hasn’t been taking care of himself for a year now, and he doesn’t know if he would have survived all that time on his own.

As much as he hates to admit it, Charles and Erik saved Alex’s life. 

Alex sighs. He says, “Fine. Whatever.”

“Thank you,” Charles says, and reaches for his phone again as it buzzes. Erik must really be in a mood if he’s sending Charles this many texts in a row. Either that or they’re sexting, and actually, Alex is going to cut that thought off before it can go any further.

He says, “Who are you going to have do it? Not one of your professor friends, right?”

Charles’s professor friends more or less all know Alex is a delinquent already, so if they know he’s failing out of math, too, it’s going to be just that much more embarrassing.

“No,” Charles says, and Alex breathes a sigh of relief.

Then Charles adds, “I asked Hank,” and Alex starts to choke on air.

“Hank?” Alex wheezes. “Hank?!!”

Charles sighs and sets his phone down again.

“Yes,” he says. “Hank. Is that a problem?”

“Yes!” Alex says at once, but he’s too loud and Scott starts to fuss, so he has to put his freak-out on hold to rock his kid.

“What, because you lied to him?” Charles says easily. “Yes, that is a bit of a problem, isn’t it? Well, you’d better fix it, Alex. Tell him the truth now before anyone gets hurt.”

Quietly , so Scott doesn’t get scared again, Alex hisses, “What, tell him I’m a freak who pushed out a baby? No thanks!”

Charles gives him a look, and Alex belatedly realizes he’s accidentally called Charles a freak, too.

“Well it’s fine for you,” he says, backtracking. “You’re already married. You don’t have to worry about that getting around and never getting laid again!”

“Alex,” Charles says and he’s using his gentle voice, the one that means Alex is probably being stupid about something. “First, you know how I feel about that word. But also, whoever said you had to tell him about your mutation? He wouldn’t have assumed it. You can, you know, be a father without bearing the child yourself, and in fact that’s the more common way of going about it.”

If he hadn’t just gotten Scott calmed down, Alex would smack himself in the forehead.

“Oh my God,” he says. “I’m an idiot!”

“Of course you’re not,” Charles says. “You’re just impulsive, Alex, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. You just have to be sure any messes you make get cleaned up before they start to snowball. That means you have to tell Hank the truth.”

“Right,” Alex says. “The truth. Crap.”

XXXXX

Hank arrives at Dr. Xavier’s house for the second time in two weeks, and he’s somehow just as anxious about this visit as the first. That doesn’t make much sense – scientifically speaking, repetition is the key to comfort – but it’s true nonetheless. He knocks on the door, and this time Professor Lehnsherr opens it. He has Lorna on his hip, and Hank is struck again by the oddness of her hair. Eventually, he thinks, he’s going to have to ask about that.

Professor Lehnsherr says nothing, just stands back to let Hank in. The house is pleasantly warm inside but suspiciously quiet. Or at least, Hank can assume it’s suspicious after the noisy affair that was dinner last week.

Professor Lehnsherr says, “They’re downstairs. Dinner will be in fifteen minutes and then afterward, you and I have business.”

Hank thanks him and takes the stairs down. As he descends, the noise he expected upstairs starts to reach him. When he gets to the bottom, he sees that all of the children are there: Alex at the computer playing a game, Ororo with a controller in her hand at the television, and Sean with the three babies playing a loud and dramatic version of peekaboo.

For a long few minutes, Hank stands there awkwardly, unsure of how to approach them. Then Alex starts to kick up a fuss.

“Ah, fuck, aggro!” he yells, hitting one of the keys frantically. Then, a few seconds later, his shoulders slump and he lets his hand drop away from the keyboard.

“Damnit,” he mutters.

“I’m telling the Professor you said that,” Sean says, still smiling at the babies.

Alex scowls and spins around to point a threatening finger at him.

“Listen here, Red-” he starts, but then he catches sight of Hank and freezes.

“Uh,” he says. “How long you been there?”

“Three minutes,” Hank admits. “Give or take a few.”

Alex laughs suddenly, and it looks like it takes him by surprise.

Hank feels himself start to relax.

“Oh man,” Alex says. “You’re such a bozo.”

Hank’s shoulders immediately notch up around his ears again.

“I should go,” he says quickly, turning away. He doesn’t know what he was thinking, agreeing to this plan. It’s been apparent from the start that Hank’s never going to be cool enough for Alex.

“Wait,” Alex says, and he’s suddenly right next to Hank and grabbing his arm. “Don’t go. The Professor would kill me. Just… chill, okay?”

That’s certainly easy for him to say – he’s beautiful and clearly comfortable in his own skin. He has nothing to hide, not like Hank does.

But… if Hank walks away now, he’s never going to get the chance to prove himself. And anyway, Alex is right: Dr. Xavier probably would be cross with both of them.

Hank hesitates for a long, indecisive moment. Then he gives in and allows Alex to pull him over to the sofa. They sit in awkward silence for a moment, then thankfully Sean starts up the peekaboo game again and that provides sufficient distraction.

Soon afterward, Dr. Xavier calls down the stairs that dinner is ready, so they file upstairs – Sean holding Lorna, Alex holding Scott, and Ororo taking up the rear behind David, her arms outstretched to catch him if he should happen to tip backward.

They sit in same seats they had last week, which means Hank once again is in a prime position to watch Alex feed Scott. The dinner conversation is much the same, too, and Hank – much like last week – is amazed by the familiarity they all share. He listens, enthralled, as Ororo and Sean bicker about who gets a certain piece of bread (each insisting the other should take the end piece). After that, Dr. Xavier asks them about their day, and each of them has a story that somehow makes the monotony and misery of high school sound almost enjoyable. Sean’s story is actually a long-winded and slightly rambling request to join the school glee club, which Dr. Xavier and Professor Lehnsherr adamantly refuse.   
Their reasoning is that Sean’s voice is a dangerous weapon, which Hank thinks is slightly mean. Then again, Dr. Xavier isn’t the type to have arbitrary rules, so perhaps there’s something Hank’s missing.

After dinner, everyone retires to the living room, but Professor Lehnsherr takes Hank down the hall and into a home office. He sits behind the desk and has Hank sit in the guest chair. It feels very much like office hours, except that they’re here to discuss Hank’s new part-time job rather than his graduate thesis.

Professor Lehnsherr gives him a hard look and says, “Does your stipend cover the cost of room and board?”

That’s rather personal, Hank thinks, but he doesn’t dare refuse to answer, and anyway, he doesn’t have anything to be ashamed of.

“Those and the grants, yes,” he says. He’s not rich, by any means, but he gets by.

Professor Lehnsherr nods. “Good,” he says. “Then I won’t insult you by offering more than minimum wage.”

Minimum wage? For an informal tutoring position?

Hank says, “I don’t think…”

“I haven’t insulted you,” Professor Lehnsherr says firmly. “I expect the same courtesy in return.”

Hank swallows and nods.

“Good,” Professor Lehnsherr says again. “The job is a two-hour session twice every week. You’ll stay for dinner after.”

His voice brooks absolutely no argument.

With that deal reached, they return to the living room, where Hank immediately sees Alex starfished on the floor with Scott lying on his chest. They look... very comfortable, and Hank is inexplicably jealous. He can’t remember the last time he’d been comfortable around so many people. To belong to a family like this where everyone is so close… well, it’s nothing more than a fantasy.

Dr. Xavier says, “Ah, you’ve sorted things out, then?”

“Things have been sorted,” Professor Lehnsherr confirms.

“Excellent,” Dr. Xavier says. “In that case, Hank why don’t join sit down and stay a while? I think we’ve about gotten to the part of our evening where everyone is too relaxed to cause much havoc.”

Alex pops open one eye and fixes Dr. Xavier with a glare.

“Just so you know,” he says snottily, “I’m aware you’re talking about me, and if Scott weren’t crushing my lungs right now, I might have something to say about that.”

“Oh come on,” Sean says, looking up from his phone. “You can’t seriously tell me it’s worse now than when he was ins-”

He cuts himself suddenly, throwing Hank a look he can’t even begin to interpret.

“Uh,” Sean says haltingly. “When he was inside… the baby sling the other day.”

“Yeah,” Alex agrees, but he’s glaring at Sean now.

The tension in the room is suddenly much more than Hank can bear, so he decides to make his excuses.

“I really should be going, Professor,” he says to Dr. Xavier. “Thank you for having me.”

“Of course, of course,” Dr. Xavier says. “And we’ll see you next week?”

Hank confirms this and then takes his leave. 

He thinks the entire ride home that it was good he left when he did, because he’s not equipped to handle that sort of family drama. But then when he actually gets back to his apartment – silent, cold and dark – he realizes again just how alone he really is. Maybe, just maybe, it would have been better to stay, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Up next: Alex and Hank get some alone time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much ado about Warcraft.

When Hank comes over for their biweekly tutoring session (ugh), Alex hands Scott off to Sean and looks around for a place to go. They can’t stay in the basement or the kitchen (noisy and crowded, and Alex doesn’t trust himself not to get distracted from dumb math). Alex would also really prefer not to take Hank up to his room, because Scott’s crib is up there and maybe he could play that off like a normal brothers-sharing-a-room thing, but he doesn’t want to risk it. He’s going to have to tell the truth about that eventually, but it’s really a worry for another time.

So they end up going out back to the shed – the metal one Erik built last year for Alex to practice his plasma blasts. It’s not exactly comfortable, but he drags out a few blankets and pillows to put down on the floor, and that’s good enough.

“This’ll work,” Alex says. He ushers Hank inside the shed and tosses the blankets down on the ground.

Hank looks… kind of confused by the proceedings. Clearly he’s never lived in a house with a bunch of other people.

“Is this for storage?” Hank asks, probably noticing it’s completely fucking empty.

“No,” Alex says. “It’s, uh, it’s for practice.”

That probably doesn’t clear anything up, but Alex doesn’t know what Charles’s policy is on telling people about their mutations (it’s never come up before). Presumably if Hank is going to stick around, he’s going to notice something’s up, but maybe Hank’s supposed to just figure it out on his own the way Alex kind of did. Maybe it’s some kind of test Charles and Erik like to put the newbies through to see if they’re resilient enough to stick around. Or maybe they just think it’s so obvious that they’re a family of freaks that it’s not even worth advertising.

Well, either way, Alex isn’t about to come clean right this second.

He says, “So, math?”

“Yes, of course,” Hank agrees. “Do you have your textbook?”

Alex does. He digs it out of his bag and plops down on the blankets on the floor, shoving one of the pillows between his back and the wall. Hank kind of does the same thing so they end up side by side with their knees almost touching and Alex’s book held between them.

Alex… has not been this close to another guy (not counting Sean or the foster parents) in a very long time, and he sort of forgets how to breathe for a minute. It doesn’t help anything that Hank is so freaking attractive. He’s not hot, not in the way Todd Blanding was, but his cheekbones are so damn delicate and his eyes behind the glasses are insanely pretty. If this were any other situation, Alex would probably go for the kiss right here and now.

Then Hank says, “So you’re struggling with vectors?” and that kind of kills the mood.

Well, not completely. Hank is still pretty and Alex would still like to kiss him. But talking about math is so unsexy that Alex mostly manages to keep his head in the game long enough to work through his stupid calculus homework.

Math is… very boring – even calculus, which is admittedly better than trigonometry. Then again, maybe if he’d paid more attention in trig, he’d have a better idea about what the heck is going on with these dumb vectors. It’s all essentially triangles, right? Well, triangles and formulas (so many fucking formulas).

It’s actually a little disgusting how good Hank is at math. It’s not surprising – they don’t let you into college as young as they did for Hank unless you’re a fucking genius. But still, seeing it first hand is somewhere between awesome and terrifying. Like, he doesn’t even have to think about it, just blitzes through the first problem set. He doesn’t even use the damn formula sheet. 

After he’s demonstrated that one, Hank takes Alex through it step by step. Except, even with Hank’s help, Alex is pretty much uselessly floundering. Hank will say something like, 

“So then we can use the cotangent to-” and Alex will realizes he’s already forgotten the step before that one and Hank has to go over the whole thing again. Which he does and he doesn’t even complain about it. 

The whole process is enough to make a guy feel pretty dumb. 

On the other hand, though, it’s kind of hard to feel like a loser around Hank. He’s just… so awkward. It’s not so bad when they’re just talking about math, but sometimes Hank decides he’s going to try to make small talk and that’s pretty much consistently a fail.

He’ll say something like, “Scott’s motor skills seem very on track for a child his age.”

And Alex will blink and shrug, because yeah, that’s not wrong. Alex read the baby books like anyone else, but he doesn’t have them memorized or anything. And anyway, how is he supposed to keep a conversation going with an opening like that? Are more than a few sentences really necessary to describe Scott’s motor skills? 

So Alex will just say something like, “Uh, yeah. He’s gonna be crawling soon, for sure.”

And then they inevitably descend into awkward silence until Alex has a math question or Hank comes up with another terrible conversation starter.

It goes on like that for the entire tutoring session, and Alex eventually starts to think that, despite Hank being so very pretty, their non-existent chemistry is going to drive this working relationship into the ground before it even gets started. He just can’t see himself volunteering to spend more time with Hank if things are constantly going to be this awkward. They just… don’t have anything in common. Alex doesn’t know why Charles ever thought this would work out – you don’t put your common teenage delinquent next to your wunderkind and call it square.

Just as Alex is about to give up hope, though, there’s a spark of… something. He’s on the last problem set and he still only vaguely sure of what he’s supposed to be doing with it.

Hank says, “You seem to be improving.”

Alex gives him a look, one he hopes conveys clearly his wtf.

“Well,” Hank says, ducking his head slightly. “It’s baby steps, isn’t it? Everyone starts at level one and works their way up.”

Alex scoffs. “Yeah, unless you’re a fucking Death Knight. Then you get to start at level 55.”

He says it without realizing what he’s admitting. When it hits him, he jerks his head up to look at Hank, to see if he’s maybe gone temporarily deaf or something. Please, Alex thinks, please let him have missed that!

He didn’t. The look on Hank’s face tells Alex he heard it loud and clear. But… he doesn’t look weirded out or anything. He seems… quietly happy.

“You play Warcraft?” Hank asks.

Alex can feel himself blushing.

“Uh, yeah,” he admits. He rubs the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, a hobby.”

It could be worse, Alex comforts himself – Hank could be someone super cool who would definitely laugh at Alex about this. Hank, at least, is a total nerd, too.

Hank confirms this when he adjust his glasses and says, “I play, too. Not as much anymore, but when I was an undergrad, that’s what got me through the day. What race are you?”

Alex shrugs. He doesn’t have much race loyalty, so he’s got a few characters here and there. “I mostly play a draenei.”

“Oh,” Hank says, clearly surprised. “You’re Alliance. I thought you would be Horde.”

Alex scowls and Hank backtracks immediately.

“I didn’t mean to insult you,” he says at once. “I just… you seemed like-“

“Yeah,” Alex says. “Whatever.”

It’s not like he doesn’t get it. He still looks like a bad kid, even after all this time of soft living. He can’t help it, that’s just his face. And probably, if Charles and Erik were to give up on him tomorrow, he’d be right back to being a troublemaker. And maybe having an Alliance character is just part of the fantasy – he gets to be an alien _and_ a good guy, two things he’ll never be in real life.

“I’m sorry,” Hank says quietly, bumping his shoulder against Alex’s. “I wasn’t trying to insult you. I should know better than to judge a book by its cover.”

Alex decides to take the olive branch, because it’s not Hank’s fault he’s not good at this _conversation_ thing. Honestly, Alex isn’t that great at it, either.

So he says, “Depends what the book is, I guess. Like this math book. I could tell it was going to be fucking awful before I opened it and I was right.”

Hank laughs, just a little, and for some reason, it makes Alex smile.

Okay, so Hank is a genius and way out of Alex’s league, but he’s only human, and that’s refreshing.

XXXXX

Tutoring isn’t as easy as Hank would have thought. It’s not quite the same as TAing, because that’s mostly grading papers and hosting study sessions. Those tend to be solo activities or else involve a group of students. Hank’s never had to teach someone while sitting next to them on blanket in a dimly lit shed. He’s never had to show someone how to work a problem set while trying not to smell their shampoo. He’s never had a boy with eyes like this practically _sitting in his lap_.

It’s all extremely distracting and Hank is even more socially inadequate than usual. All his conversational gambits are casually dismissed, and if it weren’t for the brief foray into Warcraft, Hank would think he and Alex have nothing in common at all. Statistically, though, they were bound to find some mutual interest eventually. Hank hasn’t played Warcraft in months – not since before the start of term – but his membership is still active and if spending a few hours playing here and there makes it easier to connect to Alex, Hank is willing to get back to it.

Even for all the awkwardness (for which Hank almost certainly to blame), Hank finds he’s enjoyed the last few hours. They’re making steady progress, at the very least.

“That went well,” he says.

Alex scoffs and starts to pack away his books.

As a matter of fact, Alex isn’t a terrible student. He seems largely disinterested in math, but he’s not unintelligent, Hank can tell.

“A bit more practice and you should be back on track,” he says. “It’s really very easy once you get the hang of it.”

Alex looks up at him and his eyebrows are raised. “Are you kidding me?” he asks.

“No,” Hank says at once. Why would he be kidding?

Alex rolls his eyes.

“Look bozo,” he snaps, “I already know the cost of diapers. What the fuck else do I need? Not all of us are nerds like you.”

Hank’s body jerks back and away without his permission, and he blinks hard. He doesn’t know why it stings so much, but it does.

He realizes suddenly that he doesn’t have to stand for this. Hank does not have the constitution for confrontation. He’s never stood up to a bully in his life. He takes the other option.

He stands and walks away, out of the shed and into the garden. He hears the shed door bang behind him, hears Alex says, “Hank, geeze, wait a second!”

He’s halfway to the house when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns instinctively to see Alex standing very close, eyes wide and panicked. 

“Hank, wait,” he says. “I’m sorry, okay? That wasn’t… I didn’t mean for it to sound like that.”

It’s not a very good apology, as far as that goes. But… Alex does look sorry. 

On the other hand, this is the second time this has happened, and Alex had looked sorry the last time, too.

The problem with love at first sight (or infatuation, realistically) is that it’s all about appearance and intuition. Sometimes you find yourself attracted to someone only to later find out they’re not the type of person you really want to be around, after all.

Hank finds his voice. He says very quietly, “I won’t be talked to that way.”

Alex licks his lips and Hank tries not to let the butterflies in his stomach win this argument.

Alex says, “I can’t promise anything. I’m… not a nice guy.”

“That’s not an excuse,” Hank says, thinking of his father and his endless justifications for his behavior.

“No,” Alex says. “It’s just the truth.”

He turns his head suddenly toward the house and says, “They’re ready to start dinner.”

Hank doesn’t see how he could know that just by looking, but he doesn’t press. He’s left with a choice – leave now and abandon this entire situation, or go inside and see if anything of his hopes can be salvaged.

He hesitates, unsure. 

“Stay for dinner,” Alex says. He puts his hand back on Hank’s shoulder and squeezes. “Please.”

Hank nods. 

They walk side by side up to the house, where everyone is gathered in the kitchen going through their normal pre-meal routine. Dr. Xavier is strapping Lorna into her highchair while also holding a conversation with Professor Lehnsherr, who’s at the stove. David’s in his seat already. Ororo is holding Scott, and Sean is setting the table.

“Here Alex,” Ororo says when she sees them. “He needs changed.”

“Oh,” Alex says, voice flat. “Gee, thanks a ton, Ro.”

Ororo smiles sweetly at him.

Alex takes Scott and disappears into another room to change him. Hank stands awkwardly still for a moment, unsure of whether to follow him or to stay.

Then Sean makes the decision for him, handing him a stack of plates with no explanation. It seems rather presumptuous on Sean’s part, but Hank can infer what needs done and he’s not unwilling to do it. Even if his tentative friendship with Alex is on the rocks, this family has been nothing but kind to him.

By the time Alex come back into the room, the table is set and everyone’s waiting. They left the usual seat open for Alex, which means he’s once again directly next to Hank. He puts the baby into the highchair and then sits, flashing Hank a tiny smile.

Hank forces his stomach not to flutter. He can’t let these base emotions get in the way of a measured reaction. He doesn’t smile back, but he doesn’t look away, either. 

It doesn’t take Dr. Xavier long to ask about their session. As soon as the potatoes have been served, he says, “Any luck with the calculus, Alex?”

Alex says, “Well, it’s done, anyway. I guess we’ll find out tomorrow whether luck’s got anything to do with it.”

Dr. Xavier does not take offense to the gruff tone. He says easily, “Of course, of course. Well, let me know how it goes, alright?”

Alex gives him a cheeky salute.

Professor Lehnsherr says, “And how was the practice shed?”

His face is serious, but something about his voice makes Hank think he finds the situation amusing. What exactly about it he could find funny is beyond Hank.

Alex says nothing, just pokes at his food, so Hank takes it upon himself to say, “Quite comfortable,” and Professor Lehnsherr’s poker face dissolves into a smirk. Hank doesn’t understand what that means and he’s a little frightened to find out.

Honestly, Hank doesn’t know what type of practicing they do in that shed, and he thinks they’re keeping it deliberately mysterious at this point. Hank’s known from the start that  
Dr. Xavier is not quite what he appears, and this seems a part of that. There’s definitely a secret here, and Hank’s been too distracted by his infatuation to give it much thought.

Well, if he decides to come back for a second session, deciphering the mystery will be one of his goals.

Alex is mostly quiet the entire meal. Hank can’t help but to watch him, but he doesn’t know what to make of the behavior. There’s a reason he’s not a behavioral scientist, after all. But his best guess is that Alex is subdued, possibly sad. That must be the direct effect of their disagreement earlier.

Other people notice, as well. Halfway through the meal, Sean looks over and says, “Hey, what’s wrong with you?”

“Same thing that’s wrong with your face,” Alex retorts, and Sean flicks a pea at him.

“Sean,” Professor Lehnsherr warns.

Sean puts on an innocent expression, and that’s the end of that.

After they’ve finished eating, Dr. Xavier says, “Hank, can I have a word?”

They go into the office, which must be where all serious discussions take place in this house.

Dr. Xavier says, “How was it, really? I know Alex can be a bit difficult, but he’s really very sweet.”

Hank says nothing. He hadn’t seen much sweetness tonight, but the way Alex sometimes acts around Scott makes Hank think it’s the truth.

“That well, hmm?” Dr. Xavier runs a hand through his hair. “I’ll admit, I’d hoped for better news. But of course I don’t blame you, Hank. Sometimes things just aren’t meant to be. If you’d like to bow out now, that’s fine. I won’t force you to continue.”

As Hank’s considering this, Dr. Xavier says very quietly, “If it helps at all, Hank, he was nervous, too.”

Hank just blinks at him, confused. _Alex_ was nervous? Why would he be?

“I don’t understand,” he admits.

“No,” Dr. Xavier agrees. “I don’t expect you do. But I can’t betray his confidences. If you want to know more about him, you’ll have to ask him.”

“I don’t know how to talk to him,” Hank admits.

“Find something you have in common and go from there,” Dr. Xavier says. “When I met Erik, the first thing we ever did was argue over a book we’d both read. He was quite wrong, of course, but that shared experience really cemented our friendship at the beginning.”

Hank thinks about this. He and Alex have Warcraft in common, at least nominally. And surely once they start talking freely about that, other shared interests will come to light. And then once they become friendly, Hank can really get to the bottom of Alex’s angry outbursts.

It’s either that or give up on the whole thing, and the truth is, Hank doesn’t really want to give up.

“Okay,” Hank says. He stands to go. “Tell Alex I’ll see him on Thursday.”


	4. Chapter 4

Hank has two independent but interconnected goals:

  1. Find common interests with Alex 
    * Warcraft 
    * Baby development 
    * ? 
  2. Discover the mystery of Dr. Xavier’s family 
    * The practice shed 
    * Lorna’s hair 



Accordingly, he brings his laptop with him to their next tutoring session. Alex answers the door, baby in his arms, and gives Hank a questioning look.

“I thought we could play after dinner,” Hank explains as they move into the living room.

“Oh,” Alex says. “Uh…”

“If you don’t want to-” Hank starts awkwardly, starting to regret his forwardness.

“It’s not that,” Alex cuts in. “It’s just… we kind of have family time after dinner. It’s, uh, a thing we do. I’d have to get permission-”

“Permission granted!” Dr. Xavier says cheerfully, appearing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Alex whips around to glare at him. “What the fu- _dge_! Were you eavesdropping?”

Dr. Xavier laughs. “Is that a serious question? I hear everything that goes on in this house, Alex. Everything.”

Hank doesn’t know how to take that, but it’s classic Dr. Xavier: somehow extremely well-informed but also almost unnaturally kind about it.

Dr. Xavier beams. “Thank you, Hank. You can play tonight, but do it in the living room, alright?”

“Yes, of course,” Hank says, unsure why he’s being thanked.

“Excellent. Give the baby here, Alex. The secret clubhouse is waiting for you.”

Alex scowls some more but grabs his bookbag and leads Hank outside into the mysterious practice shed. The blankets are still there from earlier this week and they settle down on them in the same configuration they had last time. It’s warm enough for Hank to pull off his sweater, and it strikes him as odd suddenly that the inside of this metal building is warmer than the air outside. He looks around for a source of heat but doesn’t see anything.

He says carefully, “Is this radiant heating?” He’s never heard of anyone doing that with metal walls and floors before and it doesn’t seem quite safe.

Alex says, “Kind of. Erik did that when he built it. He has kind of a touch with metal, you know?”

Hank does not know, but he decides it would be most efficient to pose his questions directly to Erik – Professor Lehnsherr, that is.

“Right,” he says. “What are we working on today? Still vectors?”

XXXXX

The tutoring session goes well enough, with Hank managing to keep all small talk within the realm of Warcraft. He manages not to humiliate himself and Alex doesn’t say anything mean. Their proximity is still somewhat of a problem (Hank has not become less attracted to Alex over the past few days), but he resists making any embarrassing declarations of love.

They go back to the house for dinner, and this time when Scott needs changed, Hank follows Alex into the other room to learn the process.

Alex gives him a look and says, “It’s not dinner and a show, man,” but he doesn’t make Hank leave, either.

Changing a baby, it turns out, is a fixed procedure made difficult by ever-changing variables. For instance, this diaper is only wet, which according to Alex makes it easier. Dirty diapers are much more difficult and require very thorough wiping. Other complications can include: diaper rash, excessive squirming from the child, and something Alex refers to vaguely as “blow-outs,” but refuses to explain further.

“Use your imagination, dude,” Alex says, expertly taping up one side of the diaper and then the other. “But look, this is important.” Then he proceeds to show Hank that the elastic edges of the diaper must go around the baby’s bottom as far as possible to avoid these dreaded blow-outs.

“Fascinating,” Hank says.

He leans in closer to inspect the distance and is surprised when Scott grabs a handful of his hair with one of his pudgy little fists.

Hank makes a noise of discomfort but doesn’t know how to dislodge himself without damaging the baby, or worse, making it cry.

Alex laughs (and Hank’s stomach flutters) and says, “Cut it out, Scotty. You know better than to pull hair.”

Scott babbles nonsense but allows Alex to peel his hand away from Hank’s hair.

“Sorry about that,” Alex says, still grinning. “He’s got no manners.”

“It’s no trouble,” Hank says breathily, eyes on Alex’s mouth.

There’s a moment of frozen tension and Hank has a moment of insanity where he thinks he might go in for a kiss. Alex is right there and smiling, and Hank’s heart is pounding painfully in his chest. Surely, he thinks, surely Alex wouldn’t mind.

Then Ororo shouts from the kitchen, “We’re starting without you!” and the spell is broken.

Alex clears his throat and says, “O-kay then. We’d better get in there.”

XXXXX

Hank had fully intended to get the truth about the practice shed out of Erik – Professor Lehnsherr – during dinner, but he’s somewhat distracted by the interaction between Ororo, Sean and Alex. It’s nothing unusual, nothing he hasn’t seen before, but it strikes him suddenly how very comfortable they all are together.

Family for Hank has always been a formal arrangement. Parents keep you fed and clothed and pay for your schooling until you’re an adult, and then you follow the same pattern with your own children. His parents love him, Hank knows that, but his father is distant and often cruel, and his mother is kind but quiet. Growing up, there was tenderness at times, but it was rare, and there was never any of the laughter that seems to be constant in this house.

This is a very happy house. Hank sees it in every move they make. For instance, he’s seen them throwing food back and forth or calling one another names (and being reprimanded for it) on numerous occasions, but he didn’t realize at first that it was a display of affection. They’re mean to one another, but it’s not born from dislike or discontent. It’s teasing, plain and simple, and Hank doesn’t know why it took so long for him to understand that.

The thing that really, finally makes it clear is seeing Sean and Ororo fight over the last slice of ham. They play Rock, Paper, Scissors for it and Sean wins, which makes Ororo cross her arms over her chest.

“Fine,” she says. “You can have this piece. But first you must to say _it_.”

Sean narrows his eyes at her, then looks at the ham, clearly considering. Hank watches, confused.

Then Sean sighs and says, “Fine. I’ll say it: ‘I’m a little piggy.’”

He makes a face. “Are you happy, now?”

Ororo smiles and gestures gracefully to the ham slice, which Sean takes.

“It’s kind of a thing,” Alex explains, seeing Hank’s expression. “Hazing, I guess. It’s like, how bad do you really want the last bite of something?”

It strikes Hank at first as cruel, but he looks again at Sean’s face. Sean seems embarrassed, but only mildly, and he’s grinning at Ororo, the slight already forgotten.

This, Hank thinks, must be how siblings act. This must be how _family_ acts.

In that moment, Hank wants so badly to be a part of it. If only he knew how.

XXXXX

After dinner, Hank and Alex play Warcraft together in the living room. Neither of them is up for a dungeon, so they just quest together. The rest of the family pays them no mind, all absorbed in their own conversations and projects. They’re all together but there’s no pressure to pay constant attention to one another, which Hank has always thought the mark of being in a crowd. Another peculiarity of family, he thinks.

On the other hand, questing is made somewhat more difficult by the addition of an infant who _does_ want constant attention. Erik entertains Scott and Lorna for a time, but then he has to work on his dissertation. Charles, meanwhile, is preoccupied doing something on a tablet with David, so Erik puts Lorna into a jumper and hands Scott over to Alex.

Alex sighs and settles Scott on his lap. 

“Probably have to call it quits,” he says. “He’s gonna start pushing buttons and I’ll be dead in ten seconds.”

“It’s fine,” Hank says, and it is. He understands people have responsibilities. He starts to log out of the game.

“Can you hand me that book?” Alex says, pointing over Hank’s shoulder.

Hank looks around and sees a colorful plastic book with buttons on one side. He hands it over.

“Thanks,” Alex says. He props it in front of Scott, who looks delighted, and then he says, “It’s gonna get noisy here, sorry.”

Hank can intuit that the book makes noise (he can see the speakers and the battery cover on the back), but he couldn’t have predicted how annoying and yet catchy the songs are. He understands fairly quickly why Alex apologized, because by the time Hank is packing up to leave, he has such classics as “The Animal Fair,” “Hickory Dickory Dock,” and “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” stuck on repeat in his head.

Alex walks Hank to the door, Scott in his arms.

Hank says, “I’ll see you next week.” As an afterthought, he adds, “Goodbye, Scott.”

Scott blows a raspberry at him, and Hank finds himself smiling. That is one cute infant. It’s genetic, after all.

XXXXX

For the next few weeks, Hank brings his laptop with him every time he comes over. They don’t always have time to play, but when the homework is light or when someone else is willing to keep Scott entertained, he and Alex will meet up online and do a few quests together. It’s not an unpleasant way to spend a few evenings a week.

He doesn’t make much progress in finding other areas for them to connect on, but as they become more comfortable around one another, that becomes largely irrelevant. Alex also becomes more willing to discuss baby development, so at least there’s some movement on that front. By the time December rolls around, Hank would classify them as friends, and he thinks Alex feels the same. Alex does still occasionally say something particularly mean, but it’s not often and he always apologizes afterward. Hank, for his part, finally learns to distinguish between the times when Alex is actually being unkind and when he’s only joking, and that clears up a lot of the friction between them.

But for all the strides Hank seems to be making on achieving his first goal, he’s not doing nearly as well in regards to the second one. He has every intention of asking about the practice shed and figuring out the mystery, but whenever an opportunity presents itself, Hank always find he lacks the words to frame the question and allows himself to be distracted by something else – usually a baby crying or someone throwing a Frisbee in the house, or Alex holding himself in a particularly striking way. 

Admittedly, Hank could try harder, but to be honest, it’s not really a pressing concern. He’s naturally curious and he wants to know what’s going on, but if he has to direct his efforts toward only one of his goals, he would choose Alex every time.

That doesn’t mean he isn’t paying attention, though. He notices when odd things happen. Charles, for example, sometimes makes casual reference of events he wasn’t actually present to witness. Hank considers that they might have hidden cameras all around the house, but he hasn’t seen any, and even if that were the case, it would still beg the question of why the cameras were necessary in the first place.

Other mysterious patterns include:

  * Sean’s near-weekly dinnertime confessions of having broken something about the house – usually knickknacks but occasionally a window or mirror  

  * The way the knickknacks themselves seem to change every time Hank visits, as though someone is constantly putting them away and getting new ones out, though this only really applies to the metal paperweights  

  * The way David rarely talks and achieves most of his communication with his parents via long, hard stares, though they always seem to know just what he’s trying to say – parental intuition, Hank supposes  

  * Lorna’s favorite toy being a 9-volt battery 



It’s all very odd and Hank doesn’t know what to make of any of it. He has several hypotheses, but none of them explain all the various phenomena.

He tries to convince himself on numerous occasions that the time is right to ask the question, but he never does, and eventually the choice is taken out of his hands. 

They’re sitting in the living room one evening after dinner and Hank’s thinking about the mystery, when apropos of nothing, Charles says, “You know, you’re allowed to ask, Hank.”

Hank stares up at him, confused and a bit suspicious about the way Charles seems to be… reading his thoughts.

Charles grins. “Yes,” he says. “And don’t pretend you didn’t notice from the start. You didn’t want to get your hopes up – I get it – but you’ve noticed, alright.”

“Oh,” Alex says, frowning. “So we’re just allowed to tell people, now?”

“Well,” Charles says, and shrugs. “Not just anyone. But Hank’s hardly just anyone, is he?”

Hank can feel himself blushing. If he’s reading this right – and he is – Charles is actually telepathic. It all fits neatly with the evidence Hank’s gathered over the past few weeks. It’s the conclusion he was too hesitant to draw, the question he couldn’t bring himself to ask. He doesn’t have any way to explain that hesitance to himself, but perhaps Charles is right. Perhaps he just didn’t want to get his hopes up.

He says, “It’s not just you, is it?”

His chest feels tight and he realizes he’s still trying not to let himself hope. But could it be, could it really be that Alex, too, is… 

“No,” Charles agrees. “It’s not. We should probably do our little show and tell, shouldn’t we?”

Erik nods, sagely. “Yes. We’ll show you ours if you show us yours.”

Hank blushes even more, because that certainly seems inappropriate, given the circumstances.

Alex adds helpfully, “You did wanna see what the practice shed was for.”

They end up making an expedition outside – all of them, even the babies. Hank then watches, fascinated and unreasonably pleased, as they demonstrate their powers one after another. It’s truly an amazing sight, and Hank feels a sense of camaraderie with this family, more than he’s ever felt before with anyone. They’re alike, all of them, and the ties that bind them together bind Hank, as well.

When it’s Alex’s turn to demonstrate his gift, he leads them inside the shed. The blankets on the floor get quite a few raised eyebrows, but no one says anything – not even Charles, who must be able to read Hank’s crush with a mere glance in his direction.

Alex’s power is fascinating, of course. He glances at Hank nervously before he does it, but whatever he sees in Hank’s face must reassure him, because he gestures everyone back and then lets loose with the plasma blasts. His control is impressive, Hank can tell that at once, but his aim is not great. He doesn’t come anywhere close to the target painted on the fair wall. Hank’s mind immediately goes to ways he could improve the aim.

When Alex turns back around, he grins at Hank – cocky and sure of himself, despite his miss. Hank finds himself smiling helplessly back.

Then Charles says, “You’re next Hank.”

Of course Hank knew this was going to happen eventually, but he suddenly feels ill-prepared. He looks at Alex, who’s only watching curiously. Hank had sort of meant to keep Alex from seeing this, but he supposes there’s no way to remove him from the situation without drawing attention to Hank’s feelings toward him.

He hesitates anyway.

Charles says, “Go on, Hank. You’re among friend now. You can show off.”

Show off. As if it’s a sense of modesty that’s keeping Hank from displaying his mutation.

At last he decides there’s no way out of it, so he slowly kicks off his socks and shoes and stretches his toes out.

“Whoa,” he hears Sean say.

Hank doesn’t look at anyone, just makes himself some space and does a flip, landing with his feet clinging to the metal beams near the shed’s ceiling. There’s some laughter, some clapping, and Hank feels himself go red again.

“Ta-da,” he says, playing along like he’s not even embarrassed about the whole thing.

He finally makes himself look at Alex, who’s still wearing that cocky smile.

“Impressive,” Alex says, and he’s not as noticeably appreciative as some of the others, but Hank gets the distinct impression that he _is_ impressed, and he’s just too cool to show it.

“Really?” he asks.

Alex chuckles. “Yeah,” he says. “Why not? Now get down here, Bozo, and let’s go play some Warcraft.”

In that moment, Hank wants nothing more than to kiss him. And now that there are no secrets between them, maybe – just maybe – someday he will.


End file.
